loneliness was part of the contract
by Crimsonspiderlillies
Summary: Sayaka Maizono refused to be a tragedy. She's lived a troubled childhood and done extremely questionable things to make it where she was, and she wouldn't let anyone take it from her. She'd do anything for her dream, she repeated. Anything.


Sayaka Maizono has always been lonely. She didn't want to admit it to herself, but deep down, she knew it was true and it wasn't something she could run away from forever.

(She giggled softly before she turned to face Naegi. " Oh, it's because I'm psychic!" She had told him, and he had laughed nervously.)

She knew deep down, she was lonely.

( I'm just kidding! I actually have very keen intuition," she assured him with a sweet smile. Too keen, his eyes replied back. She tilted her head and stared at him. She felt bad. He had nothing to hide. She could tell just by looking at him then that he was safe. He was safe. So why was he worried?)

She's felt alone and disconnected ever since her early childhood, when she lived with her father. Her mother died at an early age, and her father was never around. She was alone with the television in her room and those perfect idols, dancing across the screen, singing and bringing smiles to millions. They smiled brightly and she wanted to be like them. She wanted to be a sparkling idol too.

It wasn't until later that she found out it was all a lie.

They weren't always smiling because they were happy. They were smiling because they had to. They didn't get a say in the matter. It was right there in the contract. She was disappointed when she found out that many of them were phony and disingenuous.

Sayaka ignored the contract, she ignored the forcefulness that made her not want to listen. She ignored the defiance in her gut and smiled, smiled, smiled. She stared down at the audience, and they smiled too. They were different. They weren't smiling because they had to, but they were smiling because they were so happy to be here. They were just like her as a child.

Naive.

Some of them were just that - naive children with dreams of being famous, being the stars in the sky that'd be remembered even after they'd burn out. The type of stars people made wishes on.

This made her sneer.

Half of them would never get where she was because they were lazy, or scared, or perhaps they just didn't have what it took. They would never do the kind of things she did to get where she was. They probably mothers and fathers who'd be disappointed in them if they took such a disgraceful path, if they played it dirty. They had real influences, and they didn't grow up with the mindset of cheating their way through. Sayaka wasn't sure if this was a loss or a gain.

It depends on who you were, she supposed.

Then again, some of their fans were just normal girls who liked their music. Some of them genuinely enjoyed it, while others were only into them because it was considered socially acceptable. They were easy for Sayaka to pick out - the 'fans' in the crowd who've been dragged there out of obligation, to be more liked by their friends.

She pitied them, in a way. They'd do anything to be accepted. They were lonely, just like she got. She'd do anything for her dream. Even things that made her uncomfortable. Things that made her want to vomit. Things that disgusted her. They weren't the worst of the audience.

The worst kind of people were the older men. Those gross adults that always wanted to take pictures with her and openly felt attracted to her despite being years and years older. She wasn't only disgusted by them due to their vile, perverted nature and borderline pedophilic mannerisms. No, it was so much more than that.

She sometimes wondered what their childhood was like. They were probably neglected by their parents, and they probably took to gross, pitiful addictions to waste their time. Maybe some of them had dreams, maybe some of them didn't. It didn't matter, because even if they did they'd never do a damned thing about it.

They were gross. Sayaka didn't like taking pictures with people like that. Even moreso, she didn't want them laying a finger on her.

(Shake his hand, Sayaka! Take his gift! Read the letter, it's for you! Treat your fans with respect! They're the reason you're anything at all, you know. Hug him back! Sign this, sign that!)

No time to take a breath.

A lot of the fans of her group had referred to them as Sayakers. As cute and innocent as it was, that was when she began to worry that the members of her group may start to grow envious of her. Resentful.

(She gasped in horror as she stared at the video screen. The group had fallen apart. They couldn't go on without her. The others must surely resent her now. They're all going to be forgotten. She's already been forgotten. It was all for nothing. She's nothing now. Her dreams, her jobs, everything will go to waste. She'll die here, alone and forgotten. Everything she worked so hard for is gone, gone, gone.)

(She's got to get out of there. No matter what.)

Sayaka Maizono would do anything for her dream. Anything.

She loved them. Her idol group were the only people she had a connection with. She knew everything about them and they shared a soul bond she was sure non-idols could never hope to understand. They were her best friends, her co-stars, and her favorite people in the world. They shared secrets, gossip, aspirations, everything.

Sayaka showed something different to everyone, and she was sure not a single person knew the whole, entire ins and outs of Maizono Sayaka. Yet these people were the very closest and to see that something could've happened to them - that's when she broke .

She was happy before, she supposed. Everyone's lives had their holes and flaws, fake things and broken things. Sayaka took a lot of pride in the fact that she managed to crawl out of the rubbles of a broken childhood and become something beautiful. Sayaka felt that being and knowing doesn't mean a thing. Lots of people seemed to think being happy meant ignorance. Sayaka says it bullshit.

She was where she wanted to be. This was happiness.

Yet now, that monochrome stuffed bear had the nerve to rip it all away from her, to laugh at her and mock her, saying she'll never get any of it back and it'll all crumble and be destroyed forever. The bear was just like those reporters who watched her like a hawk, creating a flashy headline for her every move. After all, celebrities being driven to murder would satisfy one of the three things everyone seemed to be running from - boredom. (The two other things everyone seemed to be running from were loneliness and the truth, yet that isn't very relevant.)

Sayaka suspected that whoever was behind this all was enjoying every second of it and that infuriated her.

(Something else told her that there was a larger audience than that - her keen intuition, she supposed - yet she had no proof. She didn't care anyway. The people here she barely knew and honestly, she'd feel bad if they were put to death but her dreams held more value. She's done bad things before. Despite the posters, Sayaka was far from pure.)

She wanted no part in this.

Yet, it was the motive video that set her off the most. Before that, she had to admit she was hopeful. She liked Naegi. She remembered him from her old school as that boy who rescued the crane. He was heroic, idiotically optimistic, down to earth and safe. He was safe. There was nothing phony about him.

She liked him.

It was a reversed cliche, she had to admit. The popular girl secretly liking the lesser known, average boy who didn't think she had any idea he existed. He was likely intimidated by her. She was always suffocated by the others that she never got a single chance to talk to him.

She wondered if things would be any different. If she had talked to him back then, that was.

She introduced herself and he wore that silly hope on his sleeves and she genuinely felt that there was a chance someone like him could save her. Get her out of this mess.

(She had willpower, but Sayaka was also weak. Sensitive. She was a damned human being.)

After she saw the motive video, her rationally was a glass ball thrown to the concrete with brute force. It shattered all over the place and bloodied the patches.

Naegi was also painstakingly naive. She used to find it endearing.

Now, she found it convenient.

Useful.

If it weren't for these circumstances, she imagined falling in love with him. It was silly, since she wasn't allowed to date. That was part of her contract. Well, really it was no dating or keeping it secret from the media. Since she couldn't even pick up her groceries without being hunted down, Sayaka deemed the latter impossible.

That didn't mean it wouldn't be nice.

She pictured going out to get ice cream with him. They'd be looking at the menu, and Naegi would be overwhelmed by the flashy choices and decide to order vanilla. She wouldn't allow that - instead, she'd tell him to try the special, 'missing the summertime.' It'd be a mix of rich chocolate, peanut butter and coconut. Naegi would be intimidated and question why, and she'd simply claim to be an esper.

He'd end up loving it, and it would become his favorite flavor. It would be all he'd order for a month, and he'd be genuinely sad to find out later that they stopped serving it for seasonal reasons.

She imagined going out in wigs and fake glasses, sharing all the details with her co-stars. They'd eat it up, admiring her bravery and gushing over how awesome Sayaka's boyfriend was.

She gave herself a mental slap in the face. She was literally daydreaming about dating the boy she planned to frame for murder. This wouldn't do.

Leon acted as if she had no idea how much he was staring at her. Little did he know he had just signed his own death warrant. (Well, in a way, she's signed it for all of them.)

He'd be the perfect target. He was obsessed with women, so if one invited him to her room at night he'd surely comply. The thought of being in a killing game probably wouldn't even cross his mind.

Asahina was in the kitchen, but she was deeply engaged in a conversation with Sakura. Sakura was distracted, and even if Asahina saw her she wouldn't think much of it - the girl was naive, and she could easily dismiss it as an "oh, just in case I need to defend myself!" If asked.

She grabbed the sharp knife, slipped it into her skirt pocket, and felt nothing.

She frantically pounded on Naegi's door, tears pouring down her face. She had to plaster a smile 24/7, so faking tears was fairly easy.

(Except something, just something could've been real. Partly the fact that she didn't want to kill. She didn't want to frame Naegi for murder. She didn't want to do any of it. Sometimes, during the photo shoots, she didn't want to smile. But she did, since she had to. She had to do so to accomplish the task. To keep her dream alive.)

She put on an elaborate show for it, crying and crying about how she was attacked, how scared she was, begging him to keep her safe and swap rooms. She knew he was kind hearted. She knew he'd agree to her plan. He did.

He was naive like that. It was endearing.

It was perfect.

She wiped away the tears, smiled at Naegi and felt nothing.

She swapped their bedroom signs and felt nothing.

She lunged at Leon like a feral beast and felt nothing. All she could think of was her dream, her dream…

The tables turned. Suddenly her wrist was broken and he was staring down at her with a twisted expression of rage and malice. An uneasy confusion - fear. She was on the floor, and every muscles in her body ached so bad but she felt nothing, nothing, nothing.

The sharp blade met sensitive flesh, piercing it open and spilling blood all over, making a mess. He no longer looked human and she understood exactly why her plan failed.

She didn't want him to go free.

She didn't want Makoto to be blamed. She wanted him to learn the truth, to realize that while there's good in everyone, this is a killing game and it won't forgive anyone. She hoped his naive, overbearing optimism wouldn't end up getting him killed.

She dipped her pulsing, shaking finger in her side, spelling out Leon's name on the walls and that's when she felt everything.


End file.
